Let me tell you about a herd of not so wild horses.

The Smythe Farm is the next property just East of our family farm. The Smythes have stables filled with horses. Their own and many more that they board. They teach equestrian, both English and Western style. The Smythe Family were a couple and their two boys Hume and Pete. Hume and my sister Lorraine have been dating steadily since forever and are married now.

It’s weird to me how sexism pervades every aspect of life. Pink or blue, dolls or dump trucks and girls get figure skates but boys get hockey skates. With HorseBack Riding, the girls are usually taught English Style and the boys ride Western. That’s the way it was at the Smythe Farm.

I think there must be something about gender, though, that makes girls horse crazy. Both Hank’s and my sisters took riding lessons and had horse pictures pinned up in their bedrooms. Both my best friend Hank and I took lessons too but we didn’t write love letters to our mounts.

Riding’s okay, but I prefer to spend time grooming and exercising the horses. They’ve all got different personalities and if you take the time, you can actually be friends with them.

I learned to ride in both styles since I hung around the Smythe Farm so often. I discovered that the horses have a preference to which style of riding they like and if they want to be ridden on any given day. Some of them puff out their bellies when you cinch on their saddle and let the saddle slip when the rider tries to mount. It makes me laugh when this happens and I think the horses laugh too. One or two horses prefer to be mounted bare back without all the straps and harnesses and others appear to feel naked without.

I really like spending time with the Ferrier, Jake MacFarland. He’s the one who got me really interested in Blacksmithing. He’s got a portable forge and comes to the farm to shoe the horses and adjust or repair tack. For all the roughness of his job, he’s got a gentle hand with the horses and can keep them relaxed while he works on them.

The land in the area is low and relatively flat. A long time ago, Lake Scugog was a slow lazy river surrounded by swamps. When the Trent Severn Canal System was built, the dam and locks in Lindsay Ontario caused the area to flood forming a wide and shallow lake surrounded by meadows, fields and forests.

The April 2nd storm of the Apocalypse flooded our family farm and surrounding farms as well.

When the water started to rise on the Smythe Farm, Hume opened up the stalls and brought all the horses out into the paddock and opened the gates too. The only way to save the horses was to let them out and let them swim for higher ground. The storm couldn’t have hit at a worse time for the Smythe family. Hume was alone because his parents had gone to Lindsay for supplies along with his younger brother Pete.

They drowned somewhere along Highway 35 in the flooding near Lindsay. The car was found but their bodies were never recovered.

The Smythe Farm house and stables were destroyed too and Hume Smythe was devastated.

When the flooding subsided, everyone around pitched in to help neighbours get sorted out. In spite of a concussion and broken arm from having fallen off the roof of our barn, I did everything I could to help out as well. Hank and I were too young and we got shooed away for getting underfoot.

So Hank and I went out searching for livestock and herding them to their homes. A few pigs and cows and mostly the Smythe’s horses which were really spooked by the ordeal. Hank managed to rope some and lead them back to the paddock at our farm while I handled the more distressed ones.

That meant taking my time and slowly approaching each horse. Gently touching them and talking to them in whispers. Eventually, they’d let me get my good arm around their neck and slip a rope on them.

Joker was an old gelding quarter horse who was probably the most stubborn one of the bunch. Almost skin and bone even though he ate, well, like a horse. He’d stop on a trail and start munching clover while the rest of the group left him and his rider behind. His head would go down so fast that you had the reins ripped from your hand or you got pulled out of the saddle. Other times, he’d sit and you’d slide off his back end. Crossing a creek through a chest deep section, he’d roll to his side and you’d end up half-drowned. Riding Joker bareback was uncomfortable because of his bony withers. Although he’d run and jump out in the paddock alone, he’d never go faster than a walk when mounted.

At the Stable, everyone had a favourite horse but no one ever wanted to get stuck riding Joker. I think that some of the riding instructors would purposely put a kid they didn’t like on Joker. I was one of those kids...

The one horse that really surprised me was Joker. He was one of the last horses to be rounded up after the storm. After a few days of freedom I don't think he really wanted to go back. It took me a few hours to chase and tire him out before I could get close to him and then I had to lay on the charm. Eventually I got to petting him and stroking his neck. That’s when he surprised me. Joker got right down on the ground and let me climb onto his back. I got my one good arm around his neck and he got back up without dumping me on the ground. Then Joker carried me back to the paddock. From that point on, Joker was my horse; or I was his person...

I found that I have a natural way with horses and now Hume and Lorraine call me in when they have a problem with any of their horses. I go and have a 'little chat' with the horse and figure out what's bothering them.